


Peace even in the storm

by Arduinna



Category: The Dead Zone (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 08:31:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17700968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arduinna/pseuds/Arduinna
Summary: "Strip," Walt said, turning back to the wood and sorting out a few pieces that he hoped would catch quickly."'Scuse me?""I said strip." Walt looked at him again. "Look, there's no way this wood gets this cabin warm enough to dry out you and your clothes at the same time. The only way you're getting warm again is without wet clothes on. Sostrip."





	Peace even in the storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tangerine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangerine/gifts).



> Many thanks to Dorinda for beta!

The storm blew in out of nowhere, whipping up from a few flakes drifting on the breeze to a howling, frigid whiteout in the space of a few seconds. Walt reached out and grabbed Bruce's arm, pulling him closer. "We have to get out of this," he shouted. "I think there's a cabin not too far straight ahead of us."

"You _think_?"

Walt shrugged under his heavy coat. "Yeah, I think! I'm not Johnny, but I know these woods pretty well, and I've been to that cabin before. It's either try for that or sit down right where we are, 'cause we're not making it any further than that without getting lost."

Bruce grimaced but nodded. "How will we know if we're going straight?"

"If we hit the cabin, we went straight. If we don't, we didn't." He ignored the speaking look Bruce shot him, tightening his grip and tugging. "Come on." 

Ten minutes later, Walt was starting to think this hadn't been such a good idea. "Listen, I think we may be near a --"

"Shit!" Bruce lurched sideways, and Walt's heart stopped for an instant when he heard the splash.

"-- stream," he finished weakly. "Bruce!"

More splashing and cursing answered him, reassuring and scary in equal measure: Bruce was clearly okay, but also clearly was getting soaked, and soaked was not good. Bruce stomped his way up the short bank, mouth drawn in a grim line. "Well, this seems bad," he said.

"It's not good," Walt said, reaching out a hand to steady him. A break in the swirling snow caught his attention and he squinted, then clapped Bruce on the shoulder. "But it could be worse. C'mon, I see the cabin." 

The cabin was small, dim, cold, and a bit musty, but it was intact and would keep them out of the storm. Walt brushed the worst of the snow off himself in the doorway and started exploring to see what they had. There wasn't much.

"I don't suppose there's enough wood for a roaring fire, huh?" Bruce asked.

Walt eyed the small pile of wood in the corner. "I think we're gonna have to settle for more of a squeak than a roar."

"Oh well, it was a nice thought while it lasted." Bruce's teeth chattered a little, and Walt shot him a worried look. Bruce shrugged, shaking loose a spray of icy water from his dreads. "Just c-cold, is all. I'll be fine."

"Strip," Walt said, turning back to the wood and sorting out a few pieces that he hoped would catch quickly.

"'Scuse me?" 

"I said strip." Walt looked at him again. "Look, there's no way this wood gets this cabin warm enough to dry out you and your clothes at the same time. The only way you're getting warm again is without wet clothes on. So _strip_."

Bruce blinked, and started stripping. Walt nodded his approval, watching as the layers peeled away. Even partially numb and fumbling, Bruce had the fluid, controlled motion of someone who'd trained his body to do what he wanted it to, confident and steady despite the shivers that ran through him.

He realized he was staring at the same moment he realized Bruce's hands had slowed down, and he jerked a guilty look up into Bruce's dark eyes, warmer than he had any right to hope they'd be. 

"Hey," Bruce said softly.

"Hey." Walt swallowed hard and moved to the fireplace. "I should get this started." He took a deep breath and made himself work carefully, laying the logs, placing the kindling, getting the tinder ready. It was a soothing, familiar ritual and he relaxed into it, glad to be able to do something useful. It took a couple of tries before the tinder caught, like always, but then there was a lick of flame, then another, and then rising light and heat in the cabin as the larger wood caught fire.

He turned to Bruce, wanting to share the satisfaction of an important job done well, and froze. Bruce was still standing there, still wearing his street clothes, just his outerwear tossed to the floor nearby. His pants were soaked from hem to hip, and there were wet patches all over his shirt where snow and ice had gotten under his coat, or melted out of his hair. His eyes were still really, really warm.

"I saw a blanket," Walt said, gesturing vaguely at the far wall of the cabin. "I'll go get it."

"Okay," Bruce said. 

The forty-seven seconds it took to fetch the blanket and bring it back wasn't really the distraction Walt had hoped for. Mostly he just got more and more aware of Bruce with every second that ticked by.

"Here's the thing," Bruce said carefully when Walt was standing in front of him again. He held up stiff hands and gestured clumsily at himself. "My fine motor control still isn't that great. I could really use some help for the rest of this."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea --"

Bruce shook his head, and Walt shut up. "This is not how I wanted to do this, and if I've read this wrong I'm going to be mortified, but. I just wanted to say, whatever help you may want to give me here would be most welcome. _Whatever_ help." He stopped talking and started staring intently over Walt's shoulder.

"So if I just help you get out of those and give you the blanket?"

"Yep, fine, that would be great, I would really appreciate that."

Walt put the blanket down and reached for the top button on Bruce's shirt, undoing it carefully. Bruce kept staring over his shoulder, with a desperate sort of noncommittal smile pretending to be neutrally friendly on his face. Walt watched that smile for a moment, knowing Bruce would do whatever it took to make it be real, then tilted his fingers just so, so his knuckle was grazing along Bruce's t-shirt in a slow, deliberate glide to the next button.

"Oh, thank God," Bruce said in a rush, head tipping forward to bonk gently against Walt's.

Walt cracked up, giddy with relief himself, then caught his breath when Bruce angled his head to catch the laugh in his own mouth, lips hovering just above Walt's. Couldn't ask for a clearer invitation, or a clearer sign that Bruce was still willing to let Walt set the parameters here. He smiled, tipped his chin, and brushed his lips against Bruce's -- once, then again, then again, this time parting his lips in a return invitation. Bruce didn't hesitate, pressing forward to deepen the kiss, moans breaking out of both of them as their tongues met. 

Bruce drew back, breathing a little shaky. "Listen," he said, "It's not that I'm not enjoying this, because believe me, I am enjoying this."

"But?"

"But these clothes are wet and _cold_ , man. Can we skip the sexy stripping this time and just get to the blanket?"

"If that means we can do the sexy stripping another time, sure."

"Deal. Now c'mon, I'm freezing."

Walt chuckled and started stripping him with an eye to efficiency. And maybe also an eye to getting an eyeful, but you couldn't blame a guy for looking. Although... "Jeez, you really are cold."

"Leave a man some dignity, would you? And give me the blanket." 

Walt didn't even try to hide his grin as he wrapped Bruce up snug in the blanket, tugging him close for another kiss just because. "Dry off with that; there are more blankets over there we can set up near the fire."

"I've heard body heat is the best way to warm someone up," Bruce said innocently, then waggled his eyebrows.

"You know, I've heard the same thing." He found the pile of blankets and made a makeshift bed on the floor in front of the fire, at least enough to keep them from getting splinters from rough spots on the wood floor. "Here we go," he said, patting the blankets. "Are you dry yet? Come make yourself comfortable."

Bruce moved fast, sliding out of his blanket-towel and under the blanket-cover with as little time in the air between as possible. All Walt saw was a flash of goosebump-covered thigh vanishing into the darkness. 

Walt looked around, making sure everything was in the best shape he could get it. When he was satisfied, he started shedding his clothes as fast as he could, ignoring Bruce's noise of protest.

"C'mon, man!"

"You said sexy stripping was for next time," Walt reminded him, even as he rolled his shoulders a little more than necessary to get his shirt off. He ignored Bruce's happy sigh, too. "Besides, you weren't wrong, it's freezing in here!" 

"Socks, too," Bruce said firmly, sticking bare toes out from under the blanket for a second to wiggle them before snatching them back in. 

"Yeah, yeah, socks too." He was going for "moderately annoyed" but had the feeling he'd hit "fondly indulgent" instead. As soon as he was down to bare skin everywhere he reached for Bruce, who opened the blanket and folded him in.

Bruce wrapped himself around Walt, pressing as close as he could. "Uh, again, sorry, not that I'm not enjoying this, but -- "

"Shut up and get warm," Walt said, hugging him close and tangling their legs together to get as much skin against Bruce's skin as possible. "Everything else can wait."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Bruce smiled against his neck and kissed a promise on his pulse point.

Walt focused on the chilled skin warming against him, resolutely ignoring the way Bruce's beard rasping against his throat around that soft kiss had set him tingling down to his toes. Bruce relaxed more and more as he warmed up, until finally he drifted off completely. Walt stayed awake a bit longer, making sure that Bruce's extremities were staying warm, but the pull of their cocoon got to him eventually, too. He fell asleep to the crackle of the fire and the steady sound of Bruce's breathing.

He woke up to the ragged sound of Bruce's breathing and the unwelcome feeling of Bruce shifting away from him, body-warmed air a poor substitute for his warm body. Oh, no. "Bruce?"

He heard Bruce swallow hard, then caught his breath as Bruce's fingers brushed across his chest; they didn't feel warm, they felt searingly hot, and he surged forward into the touch, making a wordless, needy sound. They tangled together again, Walt running his hands hungrily over as much skin as he could touch, cupping around the muscles and tingling from the rasp of hair against his palms. 

It was too much, too fast, and Walt didn't care. He reached down to take Bruce's dick in his hand, cradling the weight of it, gasping when Bruce reached back and wrapped his hand around Walt's dick in return. They both started pumping, all urgency and no finesse, like kids under the bleachers after a game. Walt got there first, letting go of Bruce's dick to gasp out Bruce's name as he came over both of them. Bruce rocked against him while he soothed Walt through the aftershocks, making a slick path along Walt's hip. 

"Okay?" Bruce asked as Walt drifted back to reality.

"Are you kidding?" Walt kissed him, deep and dirty, and reached for Bruce's dick again. "Your turn, I do believe."

Bruce was close, and a few strong pulls and the faintest scraping of Walt's nail against the head pushed him over, adding to Walt's still-warm come on both their bellies. Bruce went boneless against him, heaving a sigh of utter contentment.

Walt played idly with Bruce's dreads, twining them through his fingers, and smiled. "Hey, Bruce?"

"Mm?"

"I'm glad we teamed up today."

Bruce opened his eyes and just looked at him for a minute, then smiled back. "Gotta say, I think it was the best idea Johnny ever had."

Walt grinned and pulled him close. "Hands down," he agreed cheerfully. "Hands freaking down."

~fin~


End file.
